


Dark Designs

by Mintaka55



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alchemy, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bisexuality, Conspiracy, Dominant female characters, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Fantasy setting, Female military commanders, Female soldiers, Flirting, Intrigue, Kidnapping, Matriarchy, Mentions of Violence, Mild Sexual Content, Military, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Plots, Poisons, Politics, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Soldiers, alchemists, constructed world, female power, mentions of abuse, mentions of sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-10 22:30:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15958907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mintaka55/pseuds/Mintaka55
Summary: A Tosi military commander's brief search for a physical outlet to lust reveals that something strange and possibly sinister is going on the fort where she works. With the help of Len, an alchemist and former doctor with a past full of hurt, she seeks to investigate the bizarre goings-on of her colleagues and superiors.Features characters and world based on the constructed setting of Aeniith. See more at aeniith.com and aeniith.blog





	1. A Sudden Wish

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned, all of my work here is based in my constructed world of Aeniith (www.aeniith.com, aeniith.blog). Cultural and linguistic notes will be given here. Feel free to ask questions or let me know if they aren't clear. For reference, the Tosi culture is matriarchal and women run the military. The Tosi people are of the zuna race, in which sexual dimorphism results in stronger, taller women than men. See this page for more info on that: http://aeniith.com/zuna/physiology.html.

Mal Feda entered the room abruptly, shutting it hard behind her. She had been working for far too long that day, and the rigors of her work were getting to her. Her hair, still damp with sweat, clung to her neck, and her muscles were sore. She felt old and stiff.

 _When will I get a break?_ she asked herself. The days only seemed to get longer, and the amount of time between moment of respite grew more and more frustrating.

 

Thus was the life of a newly promoted Ki Magel, an enviable position in the Tosi army. Her new position had given her enough money to support her extended family, none of whom had ever had the privilege of traveling to the capital city to see her since her promotion. They consisted mostly of farmers and traders in the countryside. She did not miss her days there.

 

Mal dropped to her bed with a sigh. The room felt too hot still. She tried to steady her breathing and cool down her body. It wasn’t working.

 

She got up again and stalked across the room to the tall glass bottle of water on the corner table. A piece of citrus floated it in. She plucked it out and poured water down her throat. She felt her body start to relax.

 

 _I hate being alone here_ , she thought. _Around too many people during the day and not enough at night_. She glanced toward the bed. _I can change that_. _There has to be a willing man around_

_here. Or woman._

 

It was one of the implicit benefits to her position. The military compound at At Simel Tī was full of military personnel, but also with civilian workers, including servants, slaves, and others. She could take her pick.

 

 _It’s too late to go out again_ , she thought. _I will call Amlis to bring me someone_. She returned to the doorway and poked her head out.

 

“Amlis! Come here.”

 

A short servant girl with shiny black hair approached and bowed slightly.

 

“Yes, Dez?”

 

“Bring me a man, anyone, as long as he isn’t…unsightly.”

 

“Weak or strong, Dez?”

 

“I don’t care, whoever you can find will work.”

 

“Yes, Dez.”

 

“Off with you, Kal.”

 

Amlis turned and headed down the dim hallway.

 

“Oh, and Amlis?”

 

“Dez?”

 

“Be quick about it.”

 

~

 

Amlis returned in short order with someone in tow. She knocked on the oak wood door, and Mal quickly let her in.

 

“Dez,” she said softly, glancing at the floor. “I hope you will be pleased with this one.”

 

Mal looked the man over. He was slight, with pale, cool-toned skin and dark red hair. It was long, tied at the nape of his neck. His eyes were wide and grey. He did not look down, as most men did in her presence.

 

“Thank you, Amlis. _Tapi vī._ ”

 

“Yes, Dez.”

 

Amlis left them alone with a subservient nod. Mal looked down at the man, who still met her gaze. She strode across the chamber and picked up a flagon of wine, pouring some into a tin cup. She handed it to him and sat in a plush chair.

 

“Please, sit and drink,” she said, pouring herself a generous amount of wine. Amlis had done well, considering Mal’s admittedly general request. The man was quite appealing to the eye. As he sat in the accompanying seat, she admired the creamy skin of his cheekbones and fine gleam of his hair. His hair had a golden overtone in the firelight, one she did not find familiar. He crossed his legs in the formal fashion of a servant.

 

“No need for such formality, dear.”

 

He uncrossed his legs and gingerly took a sip of wine. He seemed hesitant to drink.

 

“Don’t worry, it isn’t poisoned, of course!” _Why would he think I’d bring him here just to kill him?_ He was no one important, that she knew of. She supposed she couldn’t blame him for his caution; some of her colleagues weren’t nearly so sane as she. She downed more of her drink, and he copied her.

 

“Have some more wine,” she refilled his barely emptied cup.

 

“You did not bring me here to get drunk.” The first thing he had spoken. It was said as a statement, with none of the intonation of a question.

 

She smiled. “Of course not. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

 

He said nothing but followed her eyes.

 

“Where did she find you, then? Not the kitchens, surely. You look too fine for that.”

 

“Amlis found me where she always finds me, where I work.”

  
“Where do you work? And does she find you frequently?”

 

“I work in the alchemists’ lab. I’m...an alchemist. She finds me often because…well, there are a lot of commanders here, Dez. They are…not entirely unlike yourself. The Dezi need...distractions, I guess, and I am here,” Mal looked at his face and his expression seemed to tense. A muscle moved under his eye. He looked flushed.

 

“I hope you have not been unkindly used.”

 

He was silent.

 

“What is your name?”

 

“Len Tel, Dez.”

 

“Len Tel. It is a beautiful name,” she said as she finished her wine. These wine bottles were far too small for her taste.

 

“My father named me,” he stated.

 

“How unusual.”

 

“My mother died during my birth, so she could not.”

 

“And do you have any older sisters?”

 

“None, Dez. Only a younger. Adopted. She is a merchant in Bal Nesh City.”

 

They sipped from their cups in silence. Mal noticed Len’s large eyes darting back and forth between her and other objects in the room: the bed, the windows, the door, the floor, the wine flagon. It seemed like he was assessing everything in his environment in preparation for some unknown eventuality. She wondered if he had been mistreated by the other commanders in her complex. It seemed likely, given his appealing appearance and passive mannerisms.

 

She put her cup down on a small table and reached out to touch his cheek. He flinched and bowed his head. _Holy Lamat,_ she thought guiltily. _Someone must have seriously hurt him._ She didn’t see any bruises or cuts, but that did not mean much. There were other, less visible, ways of inflicting pain. She unwillingly remembered some particular abhorrent days from her adolescence.

 

“If you don’t wan—” she began.

 

“No! That’s not it.”

 

She dropped her hand.

 

“No,” he repeated more softly. “I know you don’t mean me harm. It’s not like I don’t appreciate the attention from the women here—I know I should. It just wasn’t like this at my last post. The commanders left me alone. None of them wanted to associate with the alchemy lab like that, they said, you know, it was men’s work. And they left me alone. I haven’t quite—haven’t quite gotten used to how the Dezi at this—how they…operate. It’s not what I am used to. There are so many of them now.”

 

She raised her eyebrows. Given it was the most he had spoken so far, she was taken aback. It wasn’t common for a servant class worker to be so candid with their superiors. She felt humbled but distinctly uncomfortable. Suddenly, her desires from earlier seemed dulled and she was left in the unusual situation of not knowing what she wanted. It felt wrong using someone who was already clearly so hurt, and by others like her nonetheless.

 

“So,” he continued. “I understand you are not as… _demanding_ , as some of the other Dezi.”

 

“And how would you know that?”

 

“I…Amlis and I are friends. We talk. She talks…about you. She likes you better than any other Dezi in this compound, she says. So, I understand if you just want...I won’t make a fuss. It’s alright. I don’t mind.”

 

Mal frowned and put a hand to her brow. “ _Lamat_ , I don’t want you just not to mind! Gods, it’s not like I would force you. If you’ve been hurt by these bitches in this place…well, it wouldn’t exactly surprise me.”

 

Len smiled slightly. His eyes stopped moving so rapidly and looked back at her.

 

“I appreciate it. I don’t hate it here, though. It’s been…hard, for me getting used to how things are done in this part of the country. Back in the capital, it’s a little easier for men to make their way in trade or business. I used to work for a clinic. But folk are so poor, few in my distinct could afford my services, so I left to search for work elsewhere. I wanted—I still wanted to put my skills to use.”

 

“You joined the military for that?” She was surprised considering his seemingly gentle nature.

 

“They said they can always use healers. That’s what I did back in the capital, but I am no master. I don’t work with the medical department directly. I’m also an alchemist, so that’s what they put me to work on, seeing my skills with…substances.”

 

“What do they have you making, then? Not just healing tonics and medicines?”

 

He shifted in his seat and put his hands to his head nervously. His eyes seemed to darken and she could see that goosebumps had formed over the delicate skin of his chest and arms. She was stricken with a longing to touch his throat and run her lips along the crest of his ears. But now she did not dare touch him again so soon.

 

“It—no. It isn’t just healing tonics like usual. It’s not just defensive, if you know what I mean. They say they need us to develop weapons. But not normal weapons, nothing made of steel or wood. You know, the Dez called Or Tūma, her brother, Kalpun Itar, is our head alchemist and he directs us now. He has us creating…substances, meant for warfare. Weapons of a chemical nature. Substances that can be used to fight the enemy.”

 

“What in Elta kind of substances would these be?” She was alert now, and picked up her empty cup and held it between her knees for no reason. Looking toward the flagon, she snatched it up again and poured more wine into the cup. “Can these cowards believe that we are not strong enough as it is against those Rílin weaklings? What possible magical potion would they force into our hands?” She felt indignant and realized her heart was beating faster.

 

“Dez,” said Len with deference. “It is not magic. It is alchemy. I am sure it is not their meaning or intent to imply that anyone is a coward. Or Tūma’s brother is trying to bolster the strength of the warriors, not undermine it. It is merely another kind of weapon that will only see power in the hands of the right woman. This is what they are trying to achieve.”

 

Mal turned her wine cup thoughtfully in her hands now. Her mind was racing. She tried to make a mental catalogue of all the substances she knew of that could be of any use in such a situation as a battle. She could think of few, although admittedly the scholastics of alchemy were not her strong suit.

 

“It is not something they want me talking about, but…they are having us make…things. They will want to start using them soon, to start testing them.”

 

Mal sighed, and her stomach tensed with nervousness. Who knew what Or Tūma was having her brother concoct. For surely it was Or Tūma’s plans at work here. Mal knew this Dez, and she was ambitious, always trying to gain some new advantage through her innovative approaches to warfare and espionage. Mal did not like this woman, and found her cruel and strange, but could not deny her effectiveness and fervor for success. Still, any hidden plot dreamed up by Or Tūma had Mal immediately concerned. She did not trust that woman.

 

She turned back to Len and looked in his eyes.

 

“Well, I suppose I will have to wait and see what you all come up with.”

 

He reached out and set a hand lightly on her lap. She was surprised.

 

“I will tell you what you want to know,” he said, and withdrew his hand. “But Dez, tell me what it is you need from me.”

 

Her mind had turned completely away from her wish to have a man in her bed, and now her mind was full of thoughts. She looked carefully at Len’s delicate features and bright hair. She couldn’t deny his attractiveness, but commanding him into her carnal service now seemed crude and careless.

 

“Just…stay here tonight. I will let you sleep, the bed is big enough. It gets cold at night here. The days are bright and hot, and the nights cool if you are alone.”

 

His lips turned in a small smile and he stood up. He started to take off his over coat and sat on the bed. She sat beside him and unbidden he kneeled to remove her boots. How many thousands of times had a servant removed her shoes and she thought nothing of it? Somehow it felt significant now, but she did not understand why or how. It was a common act from a subordinate to their superior, and at this point in her life she was used to it. From this man, though, even a low-born worker as he was, she found it unexpected, and it made her chest constrict as he touched her feet.

 

She rose and removed her outer robe and lay back on top of the mattress. It was still not cold enough for the furs, but she pulled a cotton sheet over her legs. He lay beside her, still and quiet.

 

“You are sure this is all you want?” he asked hesitantly.

 

“Yes. I need to sleep. Tomorrow is another endless day.”

 

He rolled over onto his side toward her and placed a hand on her chest, above her sternum, and moved closer to her. For a moment, he rose up on one elbow and lightly kissed the exposed skin on her collarbone. The feeling that filled her body was both heat and cold and she wished for an instant that the evening had not become so complicated. But she wouldn’t have traded the information she had been given for anything. It was valuable, and it set her mind, cunning as it was, spinning.

 

Mal did not know what lay ahead, but she felt she had started to gain a glimpse into some fragment of the future. The knowledge Len had given her (and with any luck, would continue to give her), would give her an edge over what was to come in the ever-changing and complicated world of the Tosi.


	2. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal takes Len to eat breakfast with her and some of her fellow Dezi in the fortress.

The first few fingers of sunlight crept through the window, and Mal stirred sleepily. For the first time, she felt too warm underneath only a sheet, and she realized the reason for that as she turned over. Len still slept, and his thick crimson lashes lay full and soft on his plush cheek. He looked like a divine being asleep. Mal traced the contour of his jawline gently with a single finger, careful not to wake him. She had rarely seen a Tos with such a delicate facial structure. His features fit better to one of the peoples of Keta, a Baa perhaps, she mused to herself. He was not muscled and scarred as she was, as most of the female warriors of Tos were. His skin was not tan or beige, as was typical for their people. He was so pale, not simply from spending what she guessed were months on end in the alchemy rooms. He was naturally light-skinned, unusual for this part of Izoi but not unheard of for Tosi in general. Perhaps he came from the north originally, beyond the capital.

 

Somewhere outside a _kosti_ bird cried out a discordant screech. Len drew in a sudden full breath and open his eyes. He turned toward her and moved slightly closer.

 

Mal went to put a hand on his arm in greeting when she noticed a distinct firmness pressing into her thigh. _Oh, right._ He was male, after all.

 

He noticed her looking at him, and his lips opened and he flushed.

 

“Sorry, I’m not—”

 

“It’s fine. It’s just morning.”

 

His eyes were clear and wide now, gleaming in the pale light.

 

“It’s not just that…” he replied, and Mal could see his pulse moving beneath his jugular vein. “You’re a lot...kinder than the other women who have called on me. I’m just—not used to them letting me stay for much time afterward—never until morning before. Like I said, I am not used to—” he trailed off and turned pinker.

 

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t going to try anything. It’s alright.”

 

“I didn’t think you were! I wouldn’t assume you would be of…”

 

“Do you ever finish a sentence?”

 

Len just nodded.

 

“I’ll consider that a sentence without words then,” she said with a wink. She rose quickly, not wanting to cause him any more discomfort. But she couldn’t lie—she liked it when he blushed and hoped to have the opportunity to make him do so more.

 

As she rose from the bed, the side of her underdress drooped from her shoulder. She quickly scooped it up again before it revealed more than was decent. For reasons as yet not understood to her, she did not want to impose on Len more than she knew he was comfortable with. Maybe hearing of the over-indulgences and wantonness of her colleagues made her guard her dignity a bit more than she otherwise would. Maybe she had failed to view him as a piece of flesh and a means to a quick release, as was her original intention. At any rate, he was proving far more interesting than she had imagined.

 

She realized then that he might not want to stay with her. He was probably expected to be at work for the alchemists soon, though she did not feel like beginning the rigors of her daily existence either. He seemed to know what she was thinking.

 

“They start work well after dawn. The alchemists are not early risers, I found,” he informed her. “They don't want any of their underlings messing around the supply rooms until they are there to supervise either—we are not trustworthy, apparently.” He rolled his eyes to the side sarcastically.

 

“I think not all the servants down there are as honest as you.”

 

“How do you know I am? I just told you military secrets,” he replied, his tone turning somewhat teasing.

 

“And am I not a part of that same military?” she asked.

 

“Not the part that was meant to know about this project, that is certain. But I couldn’t stand to have this in my head any longer. It had started to itch sitting in there.”

 

She wondered that he had chosen her to tell. Why would he even bother? Was it whimsy that led him to pick her as the random Dez to let in on the furtive activities of the alchemists? And how did he not suspect she would throw him back to the wolves for betraying his masters?

 

“Someone had to know. I know the commanding women here have little love for the alchemists.”

 

“That is because the alchemists like to pretend their work is equal to ours, while it is we who are holding the swords, it is our limbs that are shorn from our bodies with the blades come down on us in combat. They like to hide underground in their kitchens.” Her mood began to sour, though she knew she was ranting at him pointlessly. It was a bad habit she’d yet to break herself of. She bent to the floor and picked up the over dress that she had discarded the night before. It was slightly crinkled but would have to do. She did not feel like rooting out another one from her clothing chest.

 

Len meanwhile did not answer her complaint but stood and replaced his shoes that lay scattered near the door. He looked serene, considering she had turned their conversation in a bitter direction. Mal was about to put her boots back on, when she felt him kneel again and replace them for her, lacing them up to her knees efficiently. He tied them off, tighter than she usually did, and it made her feel like she was slackening in her military decorum after her latest promotion. _Even a servant healer ties boots tighter than I do. I had better not get lazy now,_ she admonished herself.

 

He looked up from his position kneeling at her feet and smiled a bright and warm smile. It was something that suited his face, she thought. The crow’s-feet at the sides of his eyes wrinkled, and she realized he must not have been as young as she had assumed. His untanned skin indicated a life spent indoors, so any wrinkles would not have been acquired early in the harsh glare of the sun.

 

“Do you have to go to work now?” he asked as he rose from the floor.

 

“I can wait a couple of hours. No one is explicitly expecting me until then, so I don’t have to go yet. It’s been a while since I really took a break anyway.” Mal rotated her right arm, trying to work out a kink that had formed over the night. Her right arm always hurt these days. It was the combined symptom of aging and a long-past shoulder injury.

 

“You seem...stiff.”

 

“So did you not long ago.”

 

“...Dez,” he looked at her somewhat admonishingly but equally looked mortified. She knew it was impossible for him to deny her a joke too seriously, since she was after all Ki Magel and a sufficiently powerful woman to be allowed to tease her subordinates. It was a privilege she enjoyed.

 

“I’m just teasing you.”

 

He did not even blush this time but looked her in the eye in a way that for a split second almost seemed bordering on defiant. She liked it. It was rare for someone in his position, but she found she preferred it in a certain way. He wasn’t stuck up and unapproachable like noble men nor obsequious to the point of utter tedium like a typical servant. For a moment, he seemed like he might kiss her, but she quickly spoke and he stilled.

 

“Come on,” she said, turning away from him. “We can eat in the Dez common room—they will have just served breakfast.”

 

“Is it really alright to go with you? Can you be seen like this?”

 

“Like what?”

 

“You know what I mean. I am not of any consequence. Your position might be harmed by the sight of me. Your peers wouldn’t approve, I am sure.” Something in his tone made her think he almost did not believe his own words. She smirked and reached up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind his ear.

 

“Surely you realize I did not get to this position by being weak enough to be harmed by others’ judgments. I will eat breakfast with whom I wish.”

 

~

 

The common room was full of people by now. Servants brought in tea, _karapel_ , and water with the breakfast food. Twenty or so women sat around each large, ovular table, engaged in casual discussion. Most were dressed in their full regalia already, but some, mostly the higher-ranking officials that were above the position of Dez, lounged in their soft dresses and trousers, barefoot and cross-legged. It was their privilege to move about the compound so casually and without a care for the formality of their appearance.

 

Mal led Len into the room by his hand, and he walked close behind her. She glanced back briefly at him and noticed his expression seemed carefully neutral and still. The women at her chosen table looked to them both.

 

“Feda, please join us. And your friend,” said one of the Dez’s, a woman by the name of Karil Ostan. She gave a quick smile and gestured to one of the plush chairs surrounding the table. There were places set for several who had not yet joined them, so she indicated to Len for him to sit next to her. He did so and then immediately drained his goblet of cold water. Mal inspected the bronze dining ware and popped a grape into her mouth.

 

“The meat’s coming soon,” said Karil. “I hope they bring _gastu_ shanks in _papara_.”

 

“For breakfast?” asked Mal, wondering that her peer was so interested in a heavy, gamey meat for her first meal of the day. And especially with such a spicy condiment!

 

“I need energy in the morning! I can’t stand this new habit young women have of eating nothing but milk and fruit for breakfast. I’m always hungry again in two hours.”

 

Len looked up curiously at the conversation that was taking place before him. Mal figured he probably had little choice in what to eat, for any of his meals. The Tosi were not known for pampering their lower classes by any means. He probably ate what the rest of the men in the alchemists’ rooms did, a coarsely milled porridge with _sos_ oil and peas. Maybe with a little mint if he was lucky. She felt a sudden and unexpected indignation that he was probably poorly nourished, or at least given only the most basic of sustenance. Looking to his lean body, she could tell he was definitely fed only the minimum to keep him healthy and functional.

 

With this in mind, she took a ceramic bowl full of honeyed almonds and put it in front of him.

 

“Please eat, Len. The rest of the food will come soon. Eat as much as you want.”

 

“Thank you, Dez,” he replied with a polite dip of his bright head. His ruddy hair fell over his eyes, as he did so and Mal was seized with a desire to pin it behind his ear, as she had done before. She knew it wouldn’t be the wisest move in a room full of possibly conniving observers. At the least, she would be heavily mocked for openly touching a man with whom she’d not previously been associated. This was considered somewhat a ritual amongst military women in her position. It was safest to keep their public actions at least somewhat distant, lest her peers find a way to use him against her. She had little trust in most of her fellow Dezi, and even less in her superiors. It was the way of Tosi military women to plot against each other and vie for power, regardless of the fashion in which they did it, and regardless, it seemed to Mal, of the fact that this was exactly the opposite of what made them strong against the enemies of the Empire. Still, it was an ingrained cultural behavior that she doubted would fade out of style any time soon.

 

A servant girl arrived at the door, carrying two large platters of meat and root vegetables, decorated with sauces and fresh greens. The enticing smells from the dishes wafted through the warm room, and Mal’s mouth watered.

 

“Dez,” said the servant politely as she set down the food before the soldiers. “Fried _gastu_ , _kelto_ root, and _arun_ leaves.”

 

Mal gave the girl a brief smile, and her tablemates were already digging into the succulent meat before them.

 

“You eat like this every day?” whispered Len.

 

“More or less. This is a pretty typical breakfast. Though, as Karil here has been complaining, it’s been fashionable lately for the younger commanders to eat light in the morning. But I have always enjoyed a full belly of meat before I start work myself.”

 

He looked surprised, but hungrily sunk his teeth into the _gastu_ thigh, the vermillion sauce dribbling from his lip. Mal thought to herself that never before had messy eating looked so appealing to her, and was slightly disgusted with herself. She shifted somewhat uncomfortably in her seat, before placing some food on her own plate.

 

“You don’t use forks in the alchemists’ rooms?”

 

“We don’t have them. Not for eating anyway. Sorry, I probably have bad manners compared to these women,” he said nervously, his voice still low.

 

Mal almost laughed. “Just wait until dinner, when the wine comes out. You have no idea.”

 

Len smirked. “Does that mean you’re willing to tolerate my presence come evening again?”

 

 _I’m far more than willing to tolerate it,_ Mal thought. She smiled at him and nodded. “Yes, I am bringing you back here to eat dinner.” Lowering her voice to a whisper, she leaned closer, “No chance I am leaving you to those fools downstairs. It’s time you had what you deserved.”

 

His eyes lingered a bit too long on her as he finished chewing. She realized her last phrase was possibly ambiguous.

 

“Feda, who is your friend then?” one of the Dezi spoke up from across the table. She balanced an olive on her fingertip and then popped it into her mouth with a smack of her lips. The woman was Anta Vos, one of the younger sisters of Or Tūma. She shared her sister’s golden hair and light skin. Definitely not from this part of the Empire, Feda thought.

“Len Tel,” Mal replied. “He is an alchemist from this compound and a skilled healer as well.” Len smiled politely and nodded to the other Dez.

 

“I am delighted, Dez,” he said, brief closing his eyes as he bowed his head, chin touched into his chest. It was a common gesture of politeness—closing the eyes and bowing the head was typical of an inferior to a superior, but also generally of polite and diplomatic interactions. She only hoped the other Dezi would return Len’s inherent civility.

 

Anta Vos leaned forward in her chair, the low cut of her dress displaying her ample white breasts. Her smile widened and she pointed them so obviously toward Len, and Mal felt the familiar tendrils of anger start to bloom behind her eyes. _Don’t even try,_ she mentally warned her peer and sent daggers toward Anta with her eyes. _I should have expected as much, bringing him around them._

 

Len subtly averted his eyes from Anta, the smile still gracing his mouth; Mal fixed the woman with a sharp glare still, and Anta’s parading of her assets became more blatant by the second. Some of Mal’s colleagues she bore no respect to, and Anta (and most of her kin) were amongst them.

 

“He is working on some important healing tonics at the moment,” she said rather too loudly, she realized. She wasn’t sure if it was a desire to immediately throw suspicion away from him in his involvement with the creation of whatever biological weapons Or Tūma had dreamt up, or because she wanted to elevate his abilities in front of these women she had just come to regard as opponents. Possibly both.

 

“We are always working on that,” he replied smoothly, evidently interpreting her not-quite lie as an invitation to go on about his made-up ambitions, as some kind of distraction from Anta’s behavior. “But lately we have been focusing on some new methods of bone knitting, which should prove invaluable in the upcoming siege on Méphulä.”

 

Mal found herself surprised that he was so informed as to upcoming military plans. As far as she understood, not even the villages surrounding the compound had been apprised of recent plans to attack the Rílin stronghold to the north. She felt mildly impressed. She wasn’t sure how much his knowledge was a result of the cunning of Or Tūma’s brother, or Len’s individual ability to look beyond the limited scope of his work.

 

Anta Vos rose her delicate eyebrows and looked amused.

 

“It will be a massacre,” she said, her smile not leaving her face. “Regardless of how many we lose, it will be worth it.”

 

Mal glowered. She detested this woman. It was exactly this type of arrogant complacency that led to military blunders that the Tosi continued, in Mal’s opinion, to commit against their own success in the war with the Ríli.

“I’m sure,” Len tactfully commented, his expression nonchalant as he picked up a piece of _arun_. “And it will be convenient for you if the elixir to restore bone growth is not as painful to drink as the breaking of the bones themselves.”

 

Anta’s oversaturated smirk finally faded. “Yes, yes,” she replied dismissively. “What we really need to crush those cretins is a good cavalry. You know horses just crumple their tiny little bodies? It’s quite entertaining.” She took a long swig of _karapel_ , the honey-gold liquid dribbling from her lips to her over-exposed cleavage. Mal barely resisted rolling her eyes. _What a ridiculous person._

 

“At any rate, I’m sure we would _love_ to have Feda bring you here regularly. I know you’ll like it better here with us rather than wasting away in those moldy pits mixing plants.”

 

“It is not as if I can simply stop working,” said Len.

 

“Of course not, but you should definitely keep coming up here to eat, the food is probably infinitely less disgusting.”

 

Len said nothing, but looked into his plate. Mal could feel his discomfort.

 

The rest of the meal passed relatively uneventfully. Mal got more practice deflecting the jabs and comments of the other Dezi, which were flippant at best and nasty at worst. It was at moments that this that Mal felt the weight of despair for her Empire, realizing that the majority of ranks of the Tosi army were filled with women like Anta Vos: cruel, ambitious, but mostly stupid.

 

At the end of the meal, she walked to the door with Len and tried to look cheerful, though it was increasingly difficult.  

 

“Well, I’m hope you’re not _too_ put off to handle having dinner with me. If you prefer, we could just eat in my room instead.”

 

Len stared at her blankly, before his face bloomed into a full grin. Mal felt her own cheeks grow warmer this time, much to her dismay. She was not a woman who _blushed_ like a teenager, she was a seasoned tactician and formally trained killer! She had led her life with dignity in service to the Tosi Empress for over 20 years—almost half her life—and Lamat be damned if she found herself blushing at some pretty servant who probably thought of her as one of the same kinds of _uk ving_ that had been harassing him at breakfast. It was an irritating feeling and she hated it.

 

“I can’t say I wouldn’t rather eat there, though meeting your colleagues has been…interesting. Is this your wish then?”

 

In spite of her discomfort she couldn’t help from nodding enthusiastically.

 

“Please, I would like to hear more of your…understanding of the new alchemical developments.”

 

His eyes sparkled, silvery and light. “Very well then, Dez. I will return at whatever hour you would like.”

 

“Just before dark, once dinner has already been served here in the main hall. We’ll have the greatest chance for peace that way.”

 

“Until dusk then,” he said, and turned to follow the hall to the dark stairwell that led to the alchemy rooms. Before he could leave, Mal grasped his wrist gently and pulled him back to her. Dipping her head slightly, she kissed him delicately on the forehead, her heart tripping in her chest as she turned away. She heard him breathe in more rapidly as he continued down the hall rather slowly. Mal inhaled a shaky breath and made her way to her office in the central compound.

 

Something was definitely different.


	3. Dinner: Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal and Len eat dinner and discuss the 'weapon' at length. There is much that is mysterious about it.

The day passed in a blur for Mal. She saw to her duties—mostly a string of paperwork that felt endless, followed by some exceptionally mind-numbing meetings with her superiors. Her head ached dully throughout it all. It was only in the afternoon when she took to the outdoor training yard that she finally felt invigorated. Despite her physical exertion, she felt her fatigue lifted away, and felt the hours of the day melt away from her mind. The effort of smashing her fists and sword against something always put her back in a healthy and relaxed state.

 

As she thought of dinner time, she found herself distracted by the idea of eating with Len again. She was glad she’d told him to come back to her room instead of taking him to the common room again, and she felt more than ever irritated with her peers. Tosi women grated on her at times, but then again, so did most things.

 

The sun was beginning to sink low behind the scraggly trees on the hill above the compound. The desert sand glowed orange and red. Mal sighed and made her way back indoors from her sparring session. Sweat clung to her forehead and she felt sticky and hot. Definitely time for a quick bath before anything else, she thought.

 

The bathing rooms were cool and dark. They were set up for several people to have separate individual stone bathing pools, located in the basement of the compound, and took advantage of the natural caverns that wound their way underground.

 

As she stepped into the cold water, a chill ran up her spine and she shivered. Perfect. The concerns of the day slipped utterly from her thoughts and she lived within a brief and perfect world of physical sensation. Scrubbing the grime and sweat from her body, she lay back against the rough stone of her bathing pool.

 

Someone entered the baths and she heard voices softly exchanged. Two women, neither of whom she recognized. They entered together, already nude, she realized, and sank down into one of the nearby pools. Two heads bobbed above the surface of the water, one black and one light brown.

 

Mal’s ears twitched as she tried to catch their words.

 

“… take a new group … arrive in two days, a lot of allies…”

 

“...enough…people…? … the wall.”

 

She paused and lowered herself into the water, trying to listen. It was impossible to get more than a few isolated words. _What the hell are they talking about? “Allies?”_ she wondered. The Tosi Empire had plenty of allies—they could have been discussing anything. But the furtive tone of their voices intrigued Mal and she ached with curiosity to discover what they were saying.

 

As the two bodies sank beneath the water, the words ceased and she realized their true intentions of coming to the baths together. The voices rose in volume and the meaning of the utterances diminished. Soft muffled moans of desire echoed against the walls of the cavern and the sharp splash of bathwater rung out in contrast.

 

Mal signed and stood up, squeezing the water from her long hair. _Whatever, a couple of fools_. She was sure she had better things to concern herself with, like her impending meeting with Len. _Lamat’s tits,_ she almost thought aloud. _I can’t believe how anxious I am to see that little alchemist again. I feel like a fourteen-year-old. This is ridiculous._

 

She scoffed and tried to scold herself for her sentimentality, but found it increasingly difficult not to think about him. _Shit, this is not a good idea_. The last time she had become so enamored with a man, it all ended very badly, and she wanted to avoid a repeat of such a disaster. So she had kept her relations almost purely physical for several years. It was less complicated and less painful, but slowly she had become frustrated all the same, and definitely lonelier.

                                  

Nonetheless, Mal could not disregard the sharp stirring in her chest when she thought of Len. _This can’t possibly end well_.

 

She was still going to invite him to dinner as long as he’d put up with it though.

 

~

 

When he knocked on her door, she was still pulling a new shirt over her head. Her arms were stuck in an awkward position that prevented the garment from sliding onto her torso.

Hurriedly she called, “Just a minute!” With a huff, she squeezed her arms through the silk top and pulled it down over her body. _I hate this fabric, it has no give!_ She was definitely feeling frustrated, and her hunger did nothing to abate it.

 

Len was right on time. _Of course, an alchemist would be so precise._  

 

She opened the door and met his shining eyes. He looked a lot less like a frightened rabbit at this point, and she immediately felt more relaxed, realizing than he seemed more at ease.

 

“So, ready to eat?” he asked.

 

“I am more than ready! I am so famished. Let me just find a Kal and I will get her to bring us something. What do you prefer?”

 

“Prefer? I’m sure whatever is being cooked will be delicious.”

 

“Probably, but we can still make a request.”

 

“Meat then.”

 

“More meat? You didn't get your fill of _gastu_ at breakfast?”

 

Len gave a small smile. “We don’t get it much,” he explained. “I seem to have a constant yearning for meat, but it’s too expensive for us.”

 

“Peas just don’t suffice, huh?”

 

He laughed. “Not the most glamorous of proteins.”

 

Mal stepped into the hallway, taking just a few steps before she caught sight of a young female servant. The girl’s arms were piled with trays and pots and teacups.

 

“Kal! We require dinner. See to it that we get two servings of soup, two flanks of meat, and beer.”

 

“Beer?” inquired Len. “I assumed you preferred wine from yesterday.”

 

“I don’t discriminate against any form of alcohol.”

 

He laughed again. “Makes sense to me.”

 

They stepped back into her room and took seats at a small table in the corner that was covered with a red silk tablecloth. On the wall above it hung an aged-looking sword in a bronze scabbard. The pommel was decorated with a single dark green stone.

 

“Is that yours?” asked Len, pointing at the weapon as he sat down.

 

“My mother’s.”

 

“I assume she was also in the military then.”

 

“That’s right. Most of my family. Well, the women at least. I had a cousin, a boy, who served actually, but he was killed two years ago. Battle of Ósilû. Done in by a venomous beast from the northern woods.”

 

“Unfortunate. Your family must have regretted letting him join. Was he the only son?”

 

“No, he had some brothers. They all joined the ranks of the Kalu though. The priestly way seemed more appealing. I can’t really blame them. War is hard on men.”

 

“I cannot imagine. I hope never to see it myself unless I must.” Len shivered and pulled his knees up to his chest in the chair. There was no way Mal with her hips as wide as they were could do such a thing, so she just rested her chin in her hands against the table.

 

“I hope you don’t either.”

 

They sat in a strangely comfortable silence.

 

“Your family, are they from the desert?” Len asked at length.

 

“The desert? You mean, _not_ from the Capital.”

 

“I suppose. I guess, anything south of the Capital, we from the city call ‘the desert’,” he admitted.

 

“Yes, you do,” Mal replied somewhat teasingly. “But yes, we are all from here. Surely you can tell from the sun-ravaging on my skin?”

 

“I thought you were born with that color—like copper? Or gold. It is lovely.”

 

“Well, partially, yes, but of course years of marching in the sun made me darker.”

 

“The sun here burns me badly if I walk in it,” he said.

 

“I would imagine so. Did you resent being sent here?”

 

“No, I was glad to have any work, to be frank. As I said, it was not easy for me to stay in the Capital any longer. Work had dried up. It was tolerable for a while, but...it was never easy, honestly.  My mother died when I was born, as I said, and my father was... _not_ in the house often.”

 

Mal had a creeping feeling she knew why that might have been. Many lower-class men whose wives died or left them had the habit of lending themselves out as indentured servants, many taken far from their homes for extended periods of times. They were one of the most misfortunate class of people who weren’t outright slaves. She’d had a friend when she was in basic training as a teenager whose father had been in this situation, and the stories she had heard were dark, to say the least. Many people were willing to do anything to ensure the survival of their families.

 

“Who, then, raised you?” she asked carefully, hoping she had not caused a resurfacing of yet more painful memories for him. From their first meeting, she had understood his life had not been easy. The same stories were probably everywhere in the Empire, for life in the lower classes of the Tosi was not a pretty thing.

 

“My cousin, mainly. He was the only man in our household who was around very often. After my mother died, when I was born, my father adopted a girl. To raise the status of the family, you see.”

 

“Of course. It must have been expensive to take in another hungry child.”

 

“Yes, but my father was very concerned with our honor. He cared so much for our family, broken though it was.”

 

At this, Len’s eyes drifted downwards somewhat sadly, and Mal’s heart felt sore just looking at his countenance, full of memory of hardships long past. Nonetheless, there was a certain steadfast resolve in his expression that she had missed when first looking at him. _He would have to be strong, to survive his origins_ , she considered.

 

“But,” he continued. “I survived, and so did my sister. This was my father’s only wish—for us to live, and live as well as we could. I guess I haven’t done so terribly. I hope my mother would not be ashamed of us.”

 

“A mother’s regard for her child is like nothing else. I know she would not have been ashamed to see what you have become. She is your mother, be she dead or alive. And your sister—she must love you.”

 

He shrugged. “I can hope so. It is not easy to tell.”

 

A beat of silence passed over them, but then the servant’s rapping at the door drew their attention away from their respective contemplations.

 

“Come in,” said Mal.

 

The young face of Amlis, the same girl from the day previous, appeared from behind the door, and she brought in their dinner: _gastu_ meat, stew, and two large flagons of beer. She quickly set everything down on Mal’s small table and left at once.

 

Mal eyed the stew and sighed. “ _Mor un_ lentils!” she said and rolled her eyes. “My old enemy.”

 

“Enemy?” inquired Len. “You don’t like them?”

 

“I am allergic to them. I will give you mine. Otherwise I will lose my voice and break out in hives,” she said and passed her copper bowl to his side of the table. Len looked excited at the prospect of additional food.

 

The _gastu_ shanks, however, were exactly what she craved, and washed down with the golden ale (brewed with a hint of sweet _pel tak_ seeds, she thought, so perfect), it was one of the more satisfying meals she’d had in a while. _Of course_ , a voice in her head told her, _it might be more so due to your company._

 

They’d finished eating and were engaged in more quiet discussion when Mal heard the first _thump._ She’d been speaking when it sounded, and couldn’t tell where it came from or begin to guess what it had been. And then it happened again— _whump_.

 

“What...did you hear that?” said Len with a quirk of his brows.

 

“Yes, I’m not sure...probably something happening in the storage rooms downstairs?” she wondered.

 

Another sound, this one more like a _bang_ , followed by the indistinct and muffled sounds of voices.

 

Mal frowned and looked to her floor. It was definitely coming from underneath her room.

 

“Hmm, well. It’s likely nothing important,” she said, wishing to reassure Len, but privately more irritated than she ought to be at such a minor interruption.

 

Len just nodded, his eyes not leaving Mal’s face. Suddenly, she didn’t know what else to say to him. The heaviness of her mind seemed suddenly to drop back down on her, and she found herself sighing.

 

“What is wrong?” he asked her, as she knew he would.

 

“Nothing at all. I am thinking about the new weapon again. I am wondering about it.”

 

“You know you can count on me,” he said quietly, looking up at her. His eyes seemed to glow like jewels in the low lamplight of her room.

 

“In the sense that I should trust that it isn’t something to worry about, or in that you would be willing to offer me more specific information on the project, which I am finding increasingly suspicious?”

 

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, if I know it.”

 

Mal considered her options, wondering which answers were more pertinent to find first.

 

“What does the central purpose of the substance appear to be, as far as you can tell?”

 

Len frowned and looked into his beer flagon. “It might seem strange to say this, but it isn’t exactly obvious. Many of the components are mild poisons—some extracts of plants used in abortifacients, for example, but which are not necessarily lethal in the concentrations presented in the weapon. If consumed, for example, it would make someone sick, probably for a few days, but not too seriously, and definitely not past the point that we don’t have the capacity to treat them quite easily. The toxic components are not particularly advanced either, in alchemical terms. I mean to say, these are extracts we’ve known about for many years.”

 

“If we’ve known of these substances for years, and they aren’t combined in deadly ways in this ‘weapon’, how is it even a weapon? Why is this project even a secret? What _is_ this item supposed to be?”

 

“It’s not those components that are inherently strange. Those are the bulk of what our work contains physically, but definitely not what we’ve been ordered to devote the most of our attention or development to.”

 

Mal narrowed her eyes and tilted her chin in question.

 

“What I mean is, there are other substances that Kalpun Itar, Or Tūma’s brother, is _extremely_ interested in for this weapon, and those are what we’ve been devoting most of our practice to lately. Specifically, a corrosive derivative from the _halbet_ tree.”

 

“What’s a _halbet_ tree?”

 

“That was exactly my question too. It turns out it is a spice tree from Keta. It grows on the southern coast of Ei, and the Amelae over there like to eat it. We had to find a special purveyor of spices from Orikrindia to obtain it. It isn’t cheap here, as you might imagine.”

 

“...That’s it? Or Tūma wants a weapon that tastes like some Gotevian dessert? I knew she was a bitch but I didn’t think she was stupid too.”

 

“No, I mean, there are others too! Other strange ingredients, that make no sense,” Len seemed about as frustrated as Mal had become and had started gripping his empty flagon a bit too tightly.

 

“Listen, if you’re going to hang on to that, I might as well get us more beer.”

 

He nodded, then continued:

 

“The _halbet_ derivative isn’t the only ingredient that makes no sense. There’s also an extract from the petals of a flower that grows in Arcuna. It’s apparently a small, yellow thing, and I’ve never even _heard_ of it and neither had any of the other alchemists, except maybe Kalpun Itar, but of course he only tells us the bare minimum we need to know to keep working. And each of us is officially only working on a few components of the weapon. It was only by talking to each other—against his orders—that we collectively came to realize this was a very bizarre project. Everyone else seems very hesitant to speak any further about it, though.”

 

 _Probably for good reason_ , though Mal. _They’re already going against protocol by talking to each other about them, and why would they potentially risk imprisonment or execution for going against Or Tūma_?

 

“This is unusual then. No apparently deadly ingredients, but ingredients that are either totally pedestrian or obscure enough that professional alchemists aren’t even aware of their existence. Is there any non-toxicological but somehow dangerous use that you could imagine it being used for?”

 

Len shook his head. “I can’t think of anything at this point.”

 

“Hm. Well, let me get us more beer. I doubt that will help you think, but it might make us a bit less annoyed with all of this.”

 

Mal stood and poked her head out of the door into the hallway. The hall was much darker—it seemed someone had neglected to relight a few of the oil lamps along the wall. Mal frowned into the gloom, and stepped outside her room. A cool draft made its way up the stairwell and down the corridor, blowing her dark hair into her eyes.

 

“Amlis!” she called out, assuming the girl would still be nearby. “Kal!” she cried, hoping to alert anyone of the servant’s rank. It was silent, which was highly unusual even in the evening. There were normally at least a few servants treading up and down the halls, tended to the nighttime demands of the Dezi and other commanders. No low-ranking soldiers here of course, but there should be _someone_ , Mal thought.

 

She turned back to Len inside the room. “I can’t find her, I’ll be back in a minute.”

 

Len nodded.

 

Returning to the darkness of the hall, she headed toward the stairwell. Another cold wind blew up the stairs and the fort seemed to creak and moan. Perhaps a storm was brewing? It wasn’t uncommon this time of year.

 

Mal continued carefully down the stairs, noticing more lamps had failed to be lit. _Or put out again_ , she considered. Following the stairs to their end, she passed around the corner, squinting in the dark at the rows of rough wooden doors that led to a series of storage rooms, pantries, and various other practical rooms, most of which were the purview of various cooks, cleaning staff, butlers, and other manner of servants.  
  


A sudden noise broke through the still air, making Mal jump. A kind of stomping, thunking sound. The same sound, she realized with a slight shiver, that she and Len had heard earlier.

 

It was coming from a place at the end of the hall, past the servants’ doors and down the corridor into the darkness. The stone floor was cold beneath Mal’s bare feet, but she was glad she’d neglected to wear shoes, as she was infinitely more silent without them.

 

 As she approached the origin of the sounds, it became clear that it was not a place behind one of the regular doors in the hallway. Slowly, she crept up to the wall, and the sound became easier to hear, thumping softly now, like a muffled hit against stone.

 

The wall in front of her was shrouded in darkness, but she could barely see the metal wall fixtures gleaming in the faint light from the stairs above. She tentatively put her fingers to the wall. Alone the crevices between the slats of wood ran a thin outline of a what was clearly a hidden door. She ran her thumb down the slender niche, holding her breathe. Again, she heard it, _thump_ , and she flinched involuntarily.

There was no time for her to cry out when dark hands emerged from the wall and closed over her mouth.


End file.
